


It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

by CptEmie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting Gone Wrong, New Relationship, Other, adorable couples, awkward captain girl, smol flower baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CptEmie/pseuds/CptEmie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crossover fic of love for my OC Emeline cross and xStephyG's Inquisitor Evie Trevelyan. </p><p>Emeline is sick of unsuccessful flirting, and she and Evie hatch a plan to help her get Krem's attention before Skyhold's welcome ball for the ambassadors from Nevarra at the end of the week. Will trying to make Krem jealous end successfully, or will it completely backfire when he starts to think that Emeline has started courting the Inquisitor?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xStephyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xStephyG/gifts).



            “I’m done,” Emeline announced, plopping down next to the Inquisitor in the middle of Skyhold’s great garden.

            “Done?” Evie Trevelyan asked, without looking up. “With what?”

            “Done with flirting.” Emeline heaved a dramatic sigh. “Forever.” She reached out to pluck a plump red carnation from its stem, but thought better of picking Evie’s flowers. “It’s not worth it, and it doesn’t work.”

            Evie giggled softly, rocking backward to sit on her heels. “Trouble with your little crush, Em?”

            “Oh, sure, tease me,” Emeline protested, throwing herself backward so her back came to rest against the bench next to her. “Easy for you, isn’t it? Sneaking around with your blushing six-foot-whatever commander.”

            “Shh!” Evie chastised, swatting playfully at her friend. “Does ‘keeping it quiet’ mean nothing to you?”

            “No really,” Emeline admitted with a slight shrug. “You know I’m not one for subtlety.”

            “Probably why your attempts at flirting aren’t going so well,” Evie observed. “You swing your legs over a bench in the Rest and sling innuendos during a card game and expect him to figure out that they’re for him.”

            “Fair point.” Emeline leaned her head back until it came to rest on the seat of the bench behind her. “How did you get Cullen to notice you?”

            Evie blushed, motioning again for her friend to keep her voice down. “Maker only knows how I got this lucky,” she smiled, unabashedly pleased with her good fortune. “But he and I aren’t you and Krem. So you can’t just do what I did and expect it to work.”

            “Well then I’m out of ideas. I’m not good at…” Emeline trailed off, waving her hands in front of her as though it might better articulate her point. “At men.”

            “You’re fine.” Evie insisted, laying a comforting hand on Emeline’s knee. “You’re more than fine. You’re lovely. You’re just over thinking this.”

            “Suggestions welcome.” Emeline took her friend’s hand in hers and stroked her fingers absently, eyes trained on the edges of the garden near her feet.

            Evie looked down at their hands, and then back up at Emeline’s thoughtful gaze. The warrior was an affectionate friend and never shy about showing it. She was a veritable treasure trove of hugs and cuddles, despite her generally terrifying prowess in battle. “Just be you,” Evie insisted, after their moment of silence subsided. “It’s obvious he fancies you. He’s just nervous. I’m sure that’s all it is.”

            “Easy for you to say,” Emeline rolled her eyes. “It’s easy to say to be yourself when being _your_ self is being perfect.”

            “I’m not perfect, you nut,” Evie swatted at her friend again and withdrew the hand that Em had been stroking. “No one is. The point is…” she sputtered a little, trying to find the right words. “Well, the truth is, I don’t really know. But this thing between you will work itself out. Just give it time.”

            At the idea of time, Emeline’s cheeks flamed noticeably.

            “What?” Evie asked, nursing a little smirk. “Why don’t you want to give it time?”

            “You’re going to laugh at me,” Emeline got to her feet, dusting off her leggings and pulling her tunic and belt back into place.

            “Probably,” Evie agreed, hauling herself up with a grin.

            They strolled out across the garden, headed for the door that would lead them into the main hall. “It’s just – you know – the ball?” Emeline reached and opened the door for the Inquisitor to walk through first, and then the second in the same manner. “I wanted…to ask Krem…you know…to…oh Maker, this is ridiculous. I’m a grown woman,” she wiped both of her hands down her face in embarrassment. “I wanted to be able to dance with Krem. At the ball. But he’s not noticing a single thing I do.”

            “Oh, Em,” Evie turned and put her arms around her friends sides, hugging her in a tight squeeze. “I’m sure you could just ask him.”

            Emeline sighed, looping the shorter woman’s arm through her own as they walked the length of the hall. “I just wish I knew for sure. I don’t like uncertainty. Either he fancies me or he doesn’t, and if he does I want to know why he’s not doing anything about it. Does that make sense?”

            “Of course it does.” Evie looked again at Emeline’s nonchalant show of affection, and bit her lip mischievously. “I might have an idea,” she confided.

            “Anything,” Emeline looked eager, ready to try whatever her friend had in mind.

            Evie simply looked down at their arms, and then back up at Em. And then back down again and up, very pointedly.

            Em swallowed thickly. “Would Cu—” she stopped herself from saying his name in the crowded hall. “Would _he_ be okay with that?”

            “Well…” Evie considered. “Don’t bury your head between my legs or anything, but I’ll ask him.”

            Emeline beamed at her friend. “Evelyn Trevelyan, I could kiss you.”

            “That’s the general idea,” Evie laughed.

            They put their plan into action that night, after Evie had proposed the idea to Cullen. He had hemmed and hawed a little, but she promised him that a few chaste kisses would be the limit, and he had finally agreed. He, too, was sick of watching Emeline and Krem dance around each other day in and day out.

             Emeline and Evie went down to the Rest after supper, tucking themselves into a corner on a bench barely big enough for two people. Emeline left Evie alone just long enough to retrieve their drinks (a cup of tea for Evie and a mug of mead for Emeline) and then they settled in together to wait for their next move.

            Less than an hour later, the Chargers stampeded the tavern in their usual boisterous way. They trooped over to their nest of tables and Krem went past them to Cabot to get their drinks.

            The bench Evie had selected but them directly in the path of anyone who went to the bar. They were sitting there – arms linked together and heads bent conspiratorially – when Krem approached them. Emeline forced herself to not look up. She kept her head bowed by Evie’s and tugged her friend close, making sure to be mid-whisper as the Charger’s lieutenant walked by.

            When he came back a few minutes later (bottles tucked into both arms) he nodded slightly at the pair of them but didn’t say anything.

            They sat quietly for another hour. Emeline got them another round of drinks once the Chargers had started their game, and when she returned to the bench, Evie tucked herself into her shoulder and laid her head in the crook of Emeline’s neck. And she took special note of the way Krem’s eyes widened noticeably when she did.


	2. Chapter 2

For the next three days, Evie and Emeline took every sensible opportunity to be seen around Skyhold’s grounds together. Evie accompanied her to the training ring for a full afternoon (it was pure coincidence that Emeline spent an hour sparing with Cullen, of course). Emeline happened to deposit a vase of flowers on the table in front of Evie at supper. Evie _accidentally_ bumped into her in the courtyard so that she nearly fell and Emeline had to catch her. They sat in the Herald’s Rest each night, giggling over the fact that Evie couldn’t win a single hand of Wicked Grace no matter how many times Emeline tried to walk her through the rules. They put themselves in the Chargers’ path as much as they could, until they were too close to breaking their cover and they needed to retreat.

Every night Emeline would safely deliver Evie back to Cullen’s waiting hugs, and the three of them would sit and have tea together away from the eyes of the rest of the keep.

On the third night, Emeline sat quietly while Evie and Cullen settled down in front of the fire in Evie’s quarters. Evie was happily chatting away about how well her new patch of crystal grace was growing in, and Cullen was punctuating her thoughts with assurances that they would all be perfect, just like her. It was sickly sweet, the way they loved each other so much, and Emeline was all but dripping with envy.

“You look particularly annoyed with us, tonight,” Cullen observed, passing Em the little plate of lemon lavender cookies that sat between them.

“Sorry,” Emeline took a cookie and nibbled at the edges. “It just doesn’t seem like this elaborate shenanigan of ours is working.”

“What do you mean?” Evie cuddled back against Cullen’s chest. “Krem couldn’t take his eyes off you last night. He lost three hands of Wicked Grace in a row.”

“Yeah, but what if he believes us?” Emeline stared down at her tea cup.

Evie’s face scrunched in confusion. “I thought you wanted him to believe us?”

“I mean…” Em shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “Maker’s breath, I should have thought of it before, ya know? What if he believes that you and I are…you and I…and then doesn’t…” she threw her hands around as though she were trying to snatch the words out of the air. “And he thinks he doesn’t have a chance, and whatever little interest he may have had in me at _all,_ just goes out the window?”

“Hmm,” Cullen wiped the cookie crumbs off his fingers and rubbed Evie’s arm slightly with his now clean hand. “That’s actually a good point.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Evie agreed.

Emeline rocked back on her knees and shrugged again. “I’ve screwed myself,” she mumbled, to no one in particular. “And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. It was a stupid idea.”

“Em,” Evie reached out to pull Emeline into the pile of hugs that was happening across the rug. “You didn’t drag me into anything. I offered. And it’s not stupid that you want to catch his attention. Maker, you like him, don’t you? People do silly things when they get crushes.”

She resisted for a moment, but Emeline settled in between Evie’s knees and laid her head on her friend’s shoulder, mimicking how Evie was sitting with Cullen. The three of them tangled their arms together in a mishmash of limbs, not caring who they were hugging. They sat that way for a few minutes, letting the fire crackle in front of them, before Cullen broke the silence.

“What if you broke up?” He asked, looking down at the two women in his lap.

“We what?” Evie looked up at him.

“Would that work?” Emeline looked up, too.

“Well, if you’re worried that you’re being too convincing, then maybe you could be convincing at that, too.” Cullen’s wheels were starting to turn. “I mean, if somebody had hurt Evie like that I’d probably have kicked them straight into the Void, but…I’m not entirely sure where I’m going with this, to be honest.”

“That isn’t too manipulative?” Sweet, kind Evie.

“This entire scheme has been borderline manipulative,” Emeline pointed out. “And I’m not proud of that, by the way.” She sat up, turning again to face her friends. “Do you think you could get through it, Evie? Have a fake fight with me in the Rest tomorrow night?”

“Get through it, or get through it without laughing?” Evie lent her friend a lopsided smile. “Sure. But what exactly did you do to make me leave you, my dear?” They spent the rest of the night planning, with Emeline leaving just after midnight so Cullen and Evie could have some time together before they fell asleep.

Emeline took the long way back to her quarters, through the hall and down the stairs to the courtyard and eventually through the front door of the Rest. When she opened the door, Krem was starting back at her.

“Late night?” He asked.

“Something like that.” She stayed frozen to the spot: door open a crack behind her, and arms clenched tight at her sides.

“Making preparations for the ball, I assume.” Krem was rolling his empty wine bottle between his two hands. “I’m sure the Inquisitor has lots to prepare for.”

Oh Maker, he _did_ believe them. “I’m sure she does,” Emeline allowed, forcing herself to tug the door shut behind her. They were the only ones awake, as best as she could tell. Cabot and the other Chargers were gone, and the door to Sera’s room looked shut from where she was standing. Cole could be anywhere, but that was always true. “Has Bull managed to get you all exempt from going?” Please, _please_ , let it not be the case…

“Lady Montilyet has insisted we be there,” Krem was looking everywhere but her eyes. “No one’s getting out of this one, I’m afraid.”

“Too bad,” Emeline nodded her head sympathetically, masking the celebratory dance she was doing in her head.

“Well,” Krem stood, leaving the empty bottle on his chair like a marker of ownership. “I’m sure you’ll have fun, at least.”

They realized, in the same moment, that they were going to have to walk past each other to get where they needed to go. Emeline stepped wide to her left, trying to get to the stairs in as few strides as possible, but collided with him instead. Krem had tried to step as quickly as he could past the stairs, and both of their plans had failed miserably. Emeline pitched inelegantly forward, straight into his arms.

“Uh…” she pulled herself upward with one hand on the column next to them. “Sorry…two left feet and all that…” Emeline felt her whole body tense up: her pulse racing in her ears and her heart beating fitfully while she struggled to swallow the lump in her throat.

“Of course.” Krem was nodding vaguely, entirely focused on where his hands had connected with either of her sides. He could pull her right up against him if he wanted to. Just slip his arms around her waist and have her flush to his chest. And _Maker_ was it ever tempting.

“I’ll just—” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “I’ll just go, then?” The moment she stepped back, her body protested the lack of his warmth. Her sides screamed at her that they wanted the pressure of his hands back. And honestly? She couldn’t blame them.

But she set one foot firmly on each step ahead of her, only dimly registering that he had said “Good night” just before the door shut behind him.


End file.
